


Coda

by toushindai (WallofIllusion)



Category: Transistor (Video Game)
Genre: (like. immediately post-canon), Emotional Sex, F/M, Kinktober 2018, Post-Canon, Telepathic Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 18:20:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16269761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallofIllusion/pseuds/toushindai
Summary: Reunion.





	Coda

The pain vanishes all at once, overwritten by an internal, confident sense of normalcy. But that, too, fades away in just a moment as she opens her eyes and feels a warm breeze tickle her skin. There is an unfamiliar, sweet smell in the air and the sky is so wide that it could swallow her whole, sapphire blue against a field of shining gold; and none of that matters in the _slightest_ because Auden is right there, in front of her, gaping down at her like she’s just shown off another new talent that he’s never suspected.

And Red opens her mouth and she laughs.

At the look on his face, just a little, but also in pure joy and in relief as the sound of her laughter rings in her ears. Shaky wonder crosses his face, like he’s afraid to believe in this, and she reaches for his hand. He’s trembling and she is too. He is warm and soft and human and—and this will pass for alive. Wherever this is, _whatever_ this is, it’s good enough. It’s perfect.

He holds her hand tight and his eyes bore into her face like he can’t get enough. “Hi,” he breathes, awed.

“Hey,” she answers, her lips turning up in a soft smile, and the sound comes out when she speaks and her joy is so bright she thinks she could cry. He’s already crying, despairing tearstains washed away by the slow tentative shift of shock to hope to belief. Suddenly he pulls her into a crushing hug, and she gasps as his arms surround her and that’s when her own tears overflow. She has needed this for days. She has needed him so _desperately_.

At some point she breathes his name and tips her head back and then her lips find his, both of them salty with tears but aching for each other. She kisses him as hard as she can, she kisses him to make up for days of isolation, she kisses him like she could get drunk on him and honestly she nearly does. Her heart beats fast as his tongue traces her lips and presses past them, as his hands grasp the bare skin of her back. “ _Auden_ ,” she says again, and fumbles with his collar; she wants more than this, needs it, _now_ —

He breaks the kiss for a moment and she gasps, trying to pull him back—but he’s only pulled away to sweep her off her feet and into his arms. “Let’s go inside,” he suggests.

 _Oh_. Red laughs and nips at his neck playfully. The farmhouse he nods to, about a block’s distance away, is for them; they know it with a strange, unconcerned certainty. She supposes that will do. Her arms intertwine around his neck and she feels his warmth, his strength, his heart.

“You gonna carry me all that way, babe?” she teases.

“It’s only fair, you’ve been carrying me around for days,” he responds, grinning at first because he means it to be a joke; but their joy falters as it hits them both just what they’ve been through since that night at the Empty Set. They stare at each other and even that is a blessing, to look into each other’s eyes, but the emotions they hadn’t had time to feel before threaten to overwhelm them, until:

“Kiss me,” Red breathes, not quite pleading, and he obliges readily and neither of them speak of the reason. She loses herself in the feeling of his lips, heady and realer than they’ve ever felt before, until the despair is driven away. Then she tucks her head against his heartbeat and lets him carry her to their new home.

There’s a familiar hammock on the porch, the pillow at its head a golden triangle instead of the red Process-eye of the one in the sandbox, but they only acknowledge it with a shared smirk before heading inside. Inside, it’s airy and light—nearly as bright as outdoors—the furniture made of linen and weathered wood.

“Where’s the bedroom?” Auden wonders, but Red points into the living room.

“There’s a couch right there.”

“Ah.” He grins. “So there is.”

He lowers her into it, sliding her sleeves down her arms to bare her chest and litter it with kisses. She moans and arches into his mouth. He’ll lead today, they agree without even voicing the question and without saying why he needs it. She lets him strip her, lets his hands linger on her ass, warm and grasping, before guiding her knees apart. His touch has never felt so powerful and capable, so _incredible_. She can feel in her own chest how much he needs this and how his lust for her is powered by overwhelming relief that _they’re here to touch each other_. He kisses up her inner thigh and then begins to lick her through her panties. She squirms and swallows hard. “No,” she breathes in impatience, “come on—”

Then his fingers are pulling her underwear aside and his warm, wet tongue meets her skin. She cries out, the sound reverberating in her throat, and thinks he’s almost as glad as she is to hear it. Eagerly, he buries his mouth in her. She arches and clutches at his soft hair, overwhelmed by sensation, by the vibrancy of it all. She can feel his lips his tongue his breath his need, all of it, and it brings her to the edge far faster than it ever has before.

She’s nearly there when he pulls back abruptly, breathing hard. He looks up at her with pupils blown, muddled with desire.

“Red, something’s different,” he says, his voice rough and shaking, “something’s—”

“I know,” she says, cutting him off. She knows what he means because she feels it too, his arousal rising to a fever pitch untouched as though pulled along by hers. If she turns her thoughts to it she can even feel the floorboards beneath his knees, the softness of her own skin as he runs his palm over her thigh. But she doesn’t want him to finish his sentence because she doesn’t want him to say that something’s _wrong_. She will grant that it’s strange, but—

“Please,” she says, and when she runs her fingertips over his jawbone they shiver in unison. “Please, let’s just—I need this.”

Doesn’t he, too? She feels half-mad with the need for his touch and for now, just for now, she wants his touch to be all that matters. She doesn’t want to think about what this all is or how they got there or the dead city they left behind. She only wants to think of him and how he is here with her, fiercely and burningly present.

Her desire is a magnet, nearly pulling him back in, but he gives his head a little shake. “I’m not gonna last like this,” he protests with a note of helplessness to his voice. Red answers with a smile.

“Then come up here, babe,” she says, and she doesn’t need to tell him twice. He stands only for long enough to get his pants off and then takes her place on the couch. She pulls off her underwear entirely and straddles him, picking apart the buttons of his shirt and pushing it away. Anticipation and adoration buzz in her chest as he runs an awed hand down her spine.

“You ready?” she asks, dropping her hand to find his cock. She knows his answer will be _yes_ because she is throbbing with need, and he takes her by the hips and guides her onto him, their bodies joining together like they were made to do so. He exhales throatily, his desire answered at last, and for a moment she is almost overcome. She feels him inside of her and feels her own slick heat and feels his mind next to her own, edges softening and blurring as their breaths intermingle. He reaches between her legs for her but she shakes her head; it would be too much this time. All she needs is this connection, this embrace. She moves over him, one hand braced against the back of the couch and one in his hair, almost irrational with sensation. With every movement, he breathes her name against her neck.

They come in unison, a high grasp dragged out of her throat as he releases inside her with a groan. They are left shaking and panting and Red wants to tell him everything he means to her but she can’t seem to pull herself together enough to do so. His arms close around her and she is surrounded by his heartbeat and his scent and his skin.

“Auden,” she breathes, and she doesn’t know what more to say, but she thinks she feels understanding swell in response. He is here. They are here, together.

As they begin to catch their breath, he strokes her hair softly.

“And I wanted to hold hands,” he says, lips quirked in self-mockery, but she leaves a gentle kiss on his jawbone rather than laugh along.

“We can still do that,” she points out, and reaches for him. They weave their fingers together, holding warmth between their palms like a miracle. Outside, the sun has not yet begun to sink in the sky. Light streams in the windows as filmy curtains billow in the breeze. Red tucks her head beneath Auden’s chin and drapes her legs over his, and she feels him breathe, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, they rest.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're curious, the reason for the telepathic bond--it appears in my fic [The Storm](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12000546) as well--is that their data got a little jumbled together at the time when Auden's integration interrupted Red's. The Transistor is fully aware that there's enough data for two people there but it's not... entirely... clear on where the boundary between the two lies. Anyway that's just my headcanon. I figure I can headcanon whatever I want in the postgame zone =P


End file.
